


Searching for the Melody

by A_nonny_Minnie_mouse



Category: Soul (2020)
Genre: Family Feels, Fate, Foster Care, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:06:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28360626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_nonny_Minnie_mouse/pseuds/A_nonny_Minnie_mouse
Summary: The morning after he returns to Earth, everything is different.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 106





	Searching for the Melody

She’s six hours and thirteen minutes old the first time they place her in his arms.

Her hair is curly, her skin still red from her abrupt introduction to the world. 

Her eyes are old eyes. Familiar eyes. Deep brown until the light catches them, and then inexplicably an almost electric violet hue.

And he is both absolute smitten and terrified.

IOIOIOI

The morning _after_ , he steps out onto the streets of Queens and into the first day of the rest of his life. The traffic is snarled, the wind just starting to pick up the first hints of chill that spoke of the cold winter just a few weeks away for the city. He doesn’t mind the packed subway, or the bemused looks from the strangers who see his cheerful sauntering and good naturedly get out of his way.

Walking into the schoolyard, he pauses, watching his band kids sprinting around the small playground and chortling at the top of their lungs. He gives a quick nod to Alinda on playground duty, before making his way into the well worn building.

Inside, he can smell the Breakfast Club’s pancakes wafting down the hall, and nods in appreciation. The days when they’re in, he gets just a little bit more from the kids, and as he approaches the staffroom, the scent of a freshly brewed coffee pot intermingles on the air.

He can _feel_ it’s going to be a good day.

A small frisson of guilt twinges in his chest at the surprise of the others as he exchanges pleasantries, refilling his keep-cup and glancing at the time.

The sheet of paper is a cheerful yellow, pinned on the haggard noticeboard beneath the clock.

He never is quite able to explain why he goes over, eyes pouring over the innocuous piece of paper, or why he eventually tears off the number and slips it in his pocket just as the bell rings.

IOIOIOI

Being a teacher makes it surprisingly easy to register with Social Services. Jordan, the tired woman who helps him with the paperwork shrugs and says they’re unusually short on foster carers, and they’d probably take anyone who could pass the background check with the way the year was going.

The first few kids through his door are only there a few days each- kids who desperately need a safe place on the worst days of their lives. Each leaves with his number tucked safely into their pockets, a song in their hearts, and a relieved smile on their faces as the relatives who Jordan had spent multiple sleepless nights tracking down gently usher them onto the next chapter of their lives.

It’s after the second call that he tells Dorothea that he has to step back from the quartet. Instead of the disgust and derision he half expected, she smiles, her eyes softening and says “Imma gonna call you up if we fall short, you hear? Now you go take care of them kiddies- we’ll still be here.”

He gets used to Jordan’s calls at ridiculously unsociable hours. To kids waking up in his spare room in tears. Of hugging these young souls he met hours earlier and sitting awake until dawn crept down the Hudson as they tell him all about the people they’d lost, the reason they ended up on his doorstep more often than not with only the clothes on their backs. His Mom insists he bring them to the shop whenever they’re with him more than a day or two, and she sends each one home with a smile and the knowledge that things will be okay in the end. More often than not, on the way home they stop off to see Dez, and he stuffs their pockets with candy and fixes their hair up with a string of compliments that leave them simultaneously blushing furiously and walking like they’re ten feet tall.

Nine months to the day he returned to Earth, the phone rings in the middle of the night.He can’t deny the shiver down his back as he steps out into the sweltering June heat, and heads to the hospital.

He _knows_ this one will be different.

Her birth Mom had signed her over, and walked out the door without a look back, the nurses tell him. He wishes he knew more so he could tell her one day about the woman who gave her life.

But as he looks down upon her finally in her tiny, frail human body for the first time, he knows deep in his soul that won’t matter to her. She’ll take what he can give her, and he will darn well give her everything.

He names her Melody.

**Author's Note:**

> Been a while since I’ve published (mainly as real life gets in the way!), but feels good to be finishing something again!


End file.
